Essence of Time
by Siripiritus
Summary: Harry Potter was taken to a realm outside of this world where time is irrevelant. After staying with Time and his ancestors, Harry will return to his own world to help defeat the Dark One. But even for someone centuries old, he still loves to have fun.
1. Prologue

Prologue  
  
Time.  
  
What is time?  
  
You can't hold it in your hand. It is impossible to see, smell, hear, taste, or feel. And yet we still know it's there. Though are we sure that time exists?  
  
There is no proof that there is such a thing. How can we just blindly accept that there is a being, an entity, a substance, or essence that controls our lives? Is the human race so sure that such a thing exists?  
  
After all, the human race was sure that the earth was flat. It was positive that space travel was not possible. It did not question the so- called fact that the earth was the center of the universe.  
  
I used to ponder such philosophical questions late into the night when I had trouble sleeping. I wondered if the whole world wasn't just some great illusion meant to fool us humans.  
  
Is anything real?  
  
How do I know that the five senses I claim to have are not just illusions?  
  
I couldn't possibly know the answer to all of these questions. I am only human after all, or at least that is what I thought. So many events have happened in my years, few as they may be, that it was impossible not to think such things. After near death experiences time and time again, you start to wonder about your very existence.  
  
Why do I lead the life I lead? Is my life just some cruel joke played by Fate at my expense? Where would I go when I die? Where does anyone go?  
  
It is possible that I will never get the elusive answers I search for. However, I can safely say that there is such a thing as Time, for I have seen her.  
  
Yes, I said her. She does exist.  
  
You can see, smell, hear, taste and feel her. Though I wouldn't be inclined to taste her myself.  
  
Time is a living, breathing entity.  
  
She exists outside of this realm in a world all her own. A world where dinosaurs still roam the earth, the Roman Empire did not fall, and the isle of Atlantis was not claimed by the depths of the ocean, or was it?  
  
Time exists, and this is the one thing I am absolutely one hundred percent positive on. Her realm exists, and everything that has ever happened or will ever happen can be found in that realm.  
  
By now you must surely think me insane?  
  
I cannot contradict your suspicions. Truthfully, I have suspicions of my own, but the tale I am about to tell you did happen, and that I swear it by my existence, whatever value it may hold.  
  
My name is Harlington James Potter.  
  
Yes, my name is Harlington and yes, I consider my parents slightly more sadistic than Voldemort himself or, as I like to call him, Tommy Boy. I am just thankful that my mother insisted that I shouldn't have to go by that name.  
  
I am not sure of my age for I have spent so much, there is no other word for it, time out of the realm I was born in. I look like I might be sixteen, but I have a feeling that that is nowhere near my real age. Somewhere around six hundred and seventy-two, if my calculations are correct.  
  
I have always strived to be normal.  
  
To have a normal childhood.  
  
To live a normal life.  
  
To be a normal boy.  
  
Ever since I can remember, I have tried everything in my power to be considered a normal child, but everywhere I go, I am not considered to be normal.  
  
I am the freak of both worlds.  
  
No, I am the freak of all /three/ worlds. I cannot forget Time's realm, for I am abnormal there also. I will never achieve normality, but I still had hope.  
  
Alas, I learned that not everybody is destined to live a normal life. There are those few, rare beings that are meant for greatness.  
  
Who are meant to live lives of great hardships.  
  
Very few people would have the strength, will, or dare I say sheer stubbornness to lead such horrid lives. I realized that I would never be normal; no matter how hard I tried. This reality hit me like an anvil might a cartoon character. However, I did not recover as quickly as they from the impact.  
  
I found many of my elusive answers one humid day in late July of my fifteenth year, but it was at a great expense. Although I did say that people born for greatness never have it easy.  
  
I left my friends behind.  
  
I left my godfather behind.  
  
I left my life behind.  
  
I know I shouldn't feel guilty for leaving, I didn't have much choice at the time, but I do feel guilty for putting my loved ones through the pain of losing someone. I am far to familiar with that pain myself, and I would not wish it upon anyone.  
  
I opened a new chapter in my life that faithful day when the mist took me. I traveled to a different world, an alternate reality, a place far away from the ones I was familiar with.  
  
I traveled to Time's own world, her realm.  
  
I was told that I was born to lead the light to victory against its counter part and mine. Tom Marvolo Riddle is my counter part, and I was born to defeat him, as I had previously done. I was born to bring peace to the world once more as I had done so long ago on that Halloween night.  
  
The mist, for I have no other word to describe the bodiless beings, took me to Time's realm, and I was trained by the elite warriors of the past and future to fulfill my destiny.  
  
I do not know how much time has passed in my home realm, but I pray to whatever God that might exist that it has not been long.  
  
I do hope Sirius /will/ be terribly surprised to see me once I return, for I fear they all thought me dead after I disappeared. I am the son and only heir to the Marauder legacy after all, and I think their reactions to my appearance will be extremely amusing.  
  
Harlington James Potter has returned.  
  
Oh are they in for a surprise. 


	2. Chapter One

Chapter one  
  
It was a very hot and humid day in Little Whinging, Surrey. Number four Privet drive was /exactly/ like all the other houses on the quaint little street. With it's perfectly trimmed hedges and the immaculately normal air wafting from it. The only thing abnormal about the house was the boy who lived there.  
  
The sun was merciless as it beat down upon the back of one fourteen-year- old boy in the garden of number four Privet drive. Said boy was currently weeding the garden, which consisted all of Petunias strangely enough. Apparently the boy's Aunt was fond of Petunias.  
  
The boy was short for his age, around 5'4 or so. He also seemed slightly malnourished. He had on a pair of ridiculously large blue jeans tied together with what looked like a clothes wire. He had no shirt, and was already developing a nasty sunburn. The most amazing thing about the messy, raven-haired boy was his beautiful emerald green eyes.  
  
Although, they had no sparkle in them as would normally be seen. They were dull and seemed lifeless. The boy's eyes had the look of someone who had seen far too many terrible things in one lifetime. They say that the eyes are like a window to the soul. If that saying is true, then this boy's soul must truly be dying or may already be dead.  
  
What could make a boy, a child barely even fifteen, look like the whole world and its responsibilities has been thrust upon his shoulders? This boy was none other than Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, and savior of the wizarding world. Harry Potter was not a normal boy, though he wished for nothing more. He survived while his parents did not, and that has made has all the difference. A curious lightning bolt-shaped scar adorns the center of his forehead. This one little blemish on his otherwise perfectly mar less face tells his whole life story. And he curses this scar everyday.  
  
Harry Potter stood up and stretched. His joints loudly protested the movement in the most painful way. Biting his lip to keep from crying out, Harry walked slowly towards the back door of the house. He knocked politely and waited until his Aunt opened the door. The door was thrown open with such force that Harry stepped back in surprise.  
  
Petunia Dursley was anything but kind, and she did not like for nasty little boys to mess up her clean kitchen floor. Even if said boy had cleaned the floor in the first place that morning. She strove to be normal in each and every way possible, and she detests her sister's son because he is anything but normal. Therefore she and her family treat the child atrociously. The irony of the situation is lost on many people, but not Harry. In her crusade for normalcy, Petunia Dursley has made herself into an abnormal person with her jealousness and blind hatred toward her sister and nephew.  
  
For no normal, half way descent, person would treat /any/ child the way she has treated Harry. Harry found this amusing in a sick and twisted sort of way.  
  
"Well boy, what do you want?" Petunia asked with a disgusted look at her nephew. "I finished weeding the garden Aunt Petunia. Might I have something to eat?" asked Harry monotone. After all, he didn't want to sound too hopeful. He would definitely not get any food if he sounded in the least bit hopeful.  
  
"Take your shoes off boy. I will not have dirt all over my clean floor. Take an apple and go up to your room. I don't want to see you for the rest of the night." Harry was only too happy to oblige, but wisely kept his glee hidden from the probing eyes of his aunt. Harry shut the door to his room and started on his apple. He gave part of it to Hedwig, his owl, since he had no owl treats left. His uncle had locked her cage at the beginning of the summer, so she couldn't be able to hunt. His Uncle Vernon had told Harry that he did not want him to contact any of his "freak" friends.  
  
Harry was slightly disappointed at the time, but he realized that he didn't really want any contact with his friends after last year; he just wanted to be alone. After the Tri Wizard tournament. After Cedric. His heart clenched at the thought of the boy he had unwittingly lead to death. He felt the guilt rise up from the pit of his stomach.  
  
Hedwig apparently sensed her human friend's sorrow and hooted comfortingly from her cage. Harry gave Hedwig a slight smile. "It's alright Hedwig. I'm fine." But even through his words his owl could sense the untruthfulness of the statement. No indeed, Harry Potter was anything but "fine."  
  
Since he had nothing better to do, Harry got out one of his old school books and started reading. He did need to brush up on his studying after all. He didn't have much time last year because of obvious circumstances.  
  
A little while later, Harry looked at the clock that was sitting on his bedside table to see what time it was. Eight o' clock, he had been reading for four hours. He had read his charms and transfiguration books in that period of time.  
  
Harry sighed.  
  
He was getting tired, but he did not want to sleep. He didn't want to see the lifeless eyes of Cedric Diggory staring accusingly at him. Silently blaming Harry for his untimely death. A small part of Harry felt as if he deserved the nightmare filled nights, but he paid no mind to the little voice. He was far too occupied with his guilt. It apparently wasn't as strong as to make him that desperate since he still had no desire to put himself through his night terrors.  
  
Harry looked to the calendar on his wall, the only thing on the wall of his sparsely furnished and bare room. Eleven more days until his birthday.  
  
Oh joy.  
  
Try as he might, Harry could not keep his heavy eyelids opened much longer, and he succumbed to the welcomed darkness of sleep.  
  
{Dream Sequence}  
  
He was in the graveyard at Little Hanging.  
  
It was the night of the Third Task.  
  
He knew what was coming, but he also knew he couldn't stop it.  
  
"Kill the spare"  
  
The flash of a green light.  
  
A rushing sound; the sound of death.  
  
The sound of a body hitting the ground.  
  
The maniacal laughter of Voldemort himself.  
  
The dull eyes of Cedric Diggory, once full of laughter and life, starring accusingly up at his companion from whence he had fallen.  
  
Harry stared in horror as the body of Cedric Diggory rose unsteadily to its feet. Cedric clumsily raised his hand and pointed at Harry.  
  
"It's all your fault Potter. You killed me. You killed me," shouted the corpse.  
  
Harry backed away from Cedric, whose corpse was already starting to rot. He was surprised when he was bumped into something from behind. He spun around to see the face of his would be attacker, and was met with eyes the exact shade of his own. His mother, standing beside the rotting corpse of his father, was silently accusing him with her eyes, so much like his own. Harry backed away in fear from his zombie like parents.  
  
"You are a horrible son! I wish I had never given birth to such filth as you. You disgust me. You made me die for you. I had my whole life ahead of me, and /you/ ruined it you little freak!" screeched his mother, sounding disturbingly like her elder sister. His father just glared hatefully at his son. Harry cried out, as more and more faceless corpses broke free from the ground, none too silently accusing him for their deaths.  
  
"You killed us!"  
  
"You murderer!"  
  
"You deserve to die just like us!"  
  
Harry just dropped and curled up into a fetal position on the ground, crying softly to himself. He couldn't take much more of this verbal onslaught.  
  
"No, please! I didn't mean for you to die! Please, no!" cried Harry. The bodies just ignored his panicked cries of forgiveness as they closed in on him, suffocating him with their stench of rotting flesh. Harry screamed as the laughter of Voldemort once again sounded throughout the graveyard.  
  
{End Dream Sequence}  
  
Harry woke with a start and promptly fell from his bed onto the floor. He was sweating and trembling from his nightmare. It was one of the worst yet. Apparently, Harry had not only screamed in his dream, if the sound of his uncle's footsteps was any indication. The door to his room violently swung open, banging on the wall as his uncle stalked into the room, a gleam in his eye that Harry knew only too well.  
  
"You little freak! I'll teach you to wake me up at two in the morning!"  
  
Instinctively, Harry pushed up against the wall and curled into a fetal position, trying to escape his uncle. He knew what was coming. The first blow came, and then the second. The kicks to his ribs came fast and furious, but Harry did nothing. There was nothing he could do. Harry had no idea why his uncle had started to beat him this summer.  
  
It had never happened before.  
  
I mean sure, there was being locked in the cupboard without food for two or three days, but his uncle had never resorted to physical violence. They may have treated him worse than how the Malfoy's treat their house elves but, no, the Malfoy's /did/ abuse their house-elves. Ok, the Dursley's treated him as one might a squashed vermin on the bottom of one's shoe, with the utmost contempt, but they had never beaten him.  
  
Harry had learned earlier in the summer that resisting his uncle would just result in harsher beatings. Besides, it was like a mouse trying to protect himself from the foot of an elephant. The elephant was scared of the mouse, but if it decided to attack, there would be no stopping it. That is exactly what happened. Vernon was scared of his nephew, but if he decided to hurt Harry, Harry couldn't stop him. And Vernon did decide to hurt his nephew, right after they had gotten home from the platform.  
  
Soon enough, Vernon Dursley tired of beating his nephew. The grunts and heavy breathing of his uncle's grew louder as his energy dwindled. Apparently beating his nephew was under the category of physical activities. Something the Dursley men did not enjoy.  
  
"That'll teach you not to wake up my family you freak," panted his uncle as he left the bruised and bleeding boy on the floor. Once the door had been relocked, Harry allowed himself a small, barely audible sigh. He probably had a few broken ribs and maybe a sprained wrist. The head wound was bleeding freely now.  
  
It had been bad tonight, but he would recover.  
  
He always did.  
  
All of the sudden, time just seemed to stop, or the world just ceased all activity. He couldn't hear the crickets chirp, he couldn't hear his cousin's snores, and his clock had stopped ticking. The blood that had been flowing steadily out of the cut on his head had completely stopped. Seemingly mid-drip. Harry had no idea what was going on, and he was slightly scared, but not lucid to be rightly so.  
  
A shimmering, silver mist materialized in front of him and, to Harry's surprise, it took on vaguely humanoid shape. Harry had no idea what this, creature?, could possibly be, but it was beautiful. It made a noise, which sounded to Harry like the soft chiming of a hundred bells. Another silver misty like humanoid creature appeared and then another. Harry was captivated by the sounds that the little creatures were making at each other.  
  
Suddenly, the little mist creature's bodies grew larger and started descending upon his own body. As his body was submerged into the mists of the creatures, he felt a small tingling sensation run throughout his whole body. He then felt a ripping sensation, but it was not painful. It was almost like pulling apart Velcro, although in this case Harry was the Velcro. And as just as fast as these strange sensations had come, they disappeared.  
  
Harry kept his eyes tightly shut, for he had closed them when the mist had covered him, and noticed that he felt ten times better than what he had previously. He noticed that there was something soft beneath him too. This did not feel like the floor of his bedroom or even his bed, which was just as uncomfortable as his floor. He warily opened his eyes, afraid of what he might see. He immediately noticed that he was not in the smallest bedroom in number four Privet drive. In fact, he was sure that this place was very /very/ far away from Little Whinging, Surrey, and quiet possibly not even at all in Europe.  
  
He was in a room. A grand and opulent room, lavishly decorated in gold and silvers. He was lying on a large canopy bed that resided in the middle of the large room. Two side tables sat on either side of the bed. Both with beautiful stained glass lamps sitting upon them. A large bureau sat in the corner next to a floor length mirror. Pictures of pirate ships, fair mermaids, and different magical animals he supposed lived in the sea adorned the silver walls.  
  
A soft breeze from the opened window blew in through the room. It smelled like salt. If Harry had ever smelled the ocean, he would have thought that that might be its smell. Harry sat up and got out of the bed. His feet sunk into the soft, golden carpet and he went to the window.  
  
It turned out that he was right. He was near the ocean for just a few hundred yards or so away was where it lay. Harry was captivated by the sheer size of the sea. It seemed to stretch on without end. The sun was high in the sky and shown down upon the blue waters. There were palm trees just outside of his window, and he seemed to be on the second floor of the building, which he noted was a cheery yellow brick, that he had been transported to.  
  
Strangely enough, Harry was not frightened that he had been taken away from his house in the dead of the night by some strange mists that seemed to be alive. He was sure that Voldemort would not reside in a place so full of light such as the place he was now. Plus, anywhere is better than back with his uncle. Harry shuddered at the thought.  
  
He inhaled deeply, the smell of the ocean teasing his nose. He already had resolved that he would live near the ocean once he had graduated from Hogwarts. Of course, that is if he can find out where his is and get back to Hogwarts.  
  
A soft laugh interrupted his musings. Harry was startled so badly that as he attempted to turn and see who had entered the room, he almost lost his balance.  
  
In front of him was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She had long flowing silver locks that reached to her knees and sky blue eyes that reminded him somewhat of Albus Dumbledore. They held the same twinkle that his did, although her's was more pronounced. She was dressed in a long robe of white with golden sashes. She smiled kindly at Harry. This woman confused Harry greatly. She seemed to be young but at the same time she had an air about her that suggested that she was older and wiser than she looked.  
  
Harry smiled hesitantly back at the woman. It was hard not to.  
  
"Hello Harlington James Potter," said the woman. Her voice sounded like the chiming of many bells, just like the mist creature's had. Harry was momentarily taken aback by the name she had given him. Harlington? Is that his real name?  
  
"Excuse me, but Harlington James?" asked Harry, a confused frown on his face. The woman laughed softly again.  
  
"Yes, that is your real name and your middle name, but I fear that no one has ever told you. The Dursleys never saw fit to tell you your middle name and you just assumed that you didn't have one. Your professors also assumed that you knew your middle name. The Dursleys never called you Harlington because it didn't sound normal and you were already nicknamed Harry, your parents called you Harry because Lily didn't like the Harlington, which was your grandfather's name on your father's side, and your teachers thought that you preferred Harry, so they never called you by your given name."  
  
Harry stared at her in horror. His name was Harlington? Nobody ever told him that. Nobody ever told him he had a middle name either. Harry guessed that he must have been named after his father. Oh how he hated the name Harlington. At that moment, Harry was very happy that no one had decided to call him that.  
  
A thousand questions burst into his head after he had gotten over the shock of finding out his real name. Who was this woman? How did she know all of this about him? Where was he? Why was he here?  
  
As if hearing all the questions tumbling around in Harry's brain, the woman spoke up.  
  
"My name is Time, and you have been brought to my realm, Harry. This is my home and, well, time will pass awkwardly here. I control to some extent what happens in your world and others. I brought you here to help you defeat Tom Marvolo Riddle, your counterpart. Just as Dark is the counterpart of Light. You, my boy, will lead the Light to victory against the Dark. You will help usher in a thousand year period of peace and prosperity in both the muggle and magical worlds. There are things about your inheritance that you do not know. Your ancestors were very powerful and your family has a knack for fighting evil. You are here to be trained by your ancestors and your future decedents. Once you finish your time here, you will go back to your own realm and fight Tom."  
  
Seeing the disbelieving look on the young teen's face, Time smiled widely and took Harry's hand, surprising him as she did so. The beautiful, opulent bedroom melted away and was replace by the Great Hall at Hogwarts.  
  
"Potter, Harry"  
  
Harry looked incredulously as a small boy with messy black hair made his way nervously to the stool where the sorting hat lay. No one seemed to see the two mysterious strangers in the middle of the Great Hall. Harry looked questioningly at Time. Her smile grew wider as she replied to his asking look.  
  
No one can see or hear us Harry, kind of like a pensieve. Although if I will it, we could appear before these people. Do you believe me now Harry, or do you need to go somewhere else in time?" asked Time.  
  
Harry shook his head dazedly as he watched his younger self mouth 'not Slytherin.' "N-no, I think I believe you," replied Harry. Time took Harry's hand again and the Great Hall melted away, replaced by the room they had been in.  
  
"Good. I'm glad you believe me. This is your room for as long as you stay here. You'll meet your trainers tomorrow, but now why don't you try to get some sleep. It's gotten dark," said Time.  
  
Harry looked to the window and sure enough, the moon was bright in the sky. At Harry's surprised look, Time reminded him that time passes awkwardly in this realm. Harry was a little hesitant to go to sleep. He didn't want to be subjected to the nightmares. As if sensing his hesitation, Time put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Don't worry Harry. As long as you are here, I'll protect you from your nightmares," said Time. Harry smiled gratefully at her. "Now Harry, you will find suitable pajamas in the wardrobe to your left and clothes for the morning also." She waved her hand towards the opposite wall and a door appeared. "Your bathroom is in there. I'll have a house elf get you in the morning. Sweet dreams Harling- er, I'll try to remember to call you Harry." And with that, she left.  
  
"Goodnight," said Harry as the door closed. Harry sighed as he put on the silk golden pajamas he had found in the bureau. It seemed that he would never be a normal boy.  
  
Harry had a lot to think about that night in bed, and he didn't get to sleep for a couple of hours. Finding out that you are in essence the one who will save the world from evil can cause insomnia. But once he did get to sleep, he wasn't bothered by the nightmares.  
  
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Please review and tell me what you think. 


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two  
  
Harry groaned as the morning light shone brightly upon his face. He couldn't quite remember when the last time he'd gotten such a good night's sleep. For someone not lucid enough to have coherent thoughts, he was positive about being warm and comfortable. He wasn't plagued by nightmares as usual. He didn't wake up screaming in the middle of the night. Harry Potter had gotten his first good night's sleep since after the Tri Wizard Tournament's Third Task, and he did not want to get out of bed.  
  
A soft breeze blew into his room. Wait a second; there was no 'soft breezes' in his room. Uncle Vernon made sure to take care of that. He had bricked up the window as he had decided bars were easily broken. Think Weasleys. He didn't want Harry to have any contact with his 'freakish friends' this summer.  
  
Sudden realization hit Harry hard and he groaned for the second time this morning. He was not on number four Privet drive any longer. No indeed, he wasn't even on Earth any longer. As incredulous as it may seem, Time is a person, and he had met her last night. Oh no, he was supposed to save the world too. Damn, can his life get anymore complicated? Wait, mustn't jinx his life. It was already jinxed enough.  
  
Harry slowly slid out of the warm folds of his canopy bed. If he remembered correctly, someone was supposed to come and take him to train. Train in what, Harry had no idea. What does one who has to save the world train for? Harry didn't know, but he was sure he would find out soon enough. He needed a good, long shower before he did anything that morning. He still had a bit of dried blood on the side of his head.  
  
Harry opened the door to his bathroom and was immediately overcome. It was huge! Bigger than the Prefect's bathroom at Hogwarts. There was a grand, Olympic sized bathtub, shower stalls, sinks, a sauna, and, to Harry's great joy, a hot tub. He had always wanted to try one of those.  
  
Harry stripped down and jumped into one of the shower stalls. Oh, did if feel like heaven! Harry stayed in the shower just letting the hot water run down his still sore back. He stayed in there for about an hour, then decided he better get out and face the music. If he was going to have to defeat Voldemort, then he would train and train hard.  
  
With a determined frown set upon his face, Harry got dressed in a pair of dark brown pants, a gray tunic, and dragon hide boots, which strangely enough was the only thing in his wardrobe. He was sure there were more clothes last night. Shrugging this off as nothing, Harry decided to wait until someone came and got him. No sooner than a minute after he had sat down on his bed, a timid knock was heard on his door.  
  
"Come in," called Harry.  
  
The door opened and admitted a small, dirt brown little creature, a house elf. "Hello Mr. Potter sir. I is Kinky, sir, and I is to bring you down to Mistress for breakfast I is," said the little house elf.  
  
"Okay Kinky, lead the way," said Harry. Harry had to stifle a snort when he heard the little elf's name. Kinky . . . who would name someone Kinky? As they stepped into the hall, Harry got his first good look at his new surroundings. Other than his room that is. The hall was long, with pictures on either wall. The pictures seemed to be of different places in what Harry assumed different times.  
  
Kinky led him to a large, oak door at the end of the hall. She opened the door and stepped back, letting Harry in. Harry nodded his thanks to the little creature, who bounded away happily, and went inside.  
  
The room was smaller than his room, with only a large table and chairs. He sat down at the place that Time had indicated with her hand. She was sitting across from him, next to a large man with long, unruly black hair and piercing blue eyes. He was wearing what Harry assumed to be skins of animals. His hair was tied into two braids, but it did not look feminine on this man at all. On the contrary, he looked very foreboding, but he did have on a weird looking hat with horns. All in all, this guy made Harry very nervous.  
  
Time smiled warmly at Harry and gestured to the large man beside her. "Harry, this is Thor. He is a wizard Viking from around 1300, and he is also your ancestor. He is going to be your trainer, along with others I assure you."  
  
The large man smiled toothily at Harry, although not all of his teeth were there, and held out his hand for Harry to shake. Harry shook his hand, but not without much pain on his part. Harry doubted that the Viking knew his own strength. Harry found it hard to believe that he had a Viking for an ancestor, but right about now Harry'd believe anything.  
  
Kinky came back, but this time bearing food. Harry eagerly dug into his blueberry pancakes. After all, this was one of the only food he had been offered all summer. Thinking back on the Dursley's treatment of him brought another more urgent thought to mind.  
  
"Time, where is my owl, Hedwig?" asked Harry. Time smiled her mysterious smile.  
  
"Your owl was taken to Hogwarts by Albus Dumbledore. It seems that the old man knew when you left the wards on your house. Something like he was connected to them. I believe he was quite horrified to learn that your uncle had abused you. He took the blood on your bedroom floor as a sign that you were dead. Apparently Dumbledore believes that your uncle has murdered you and hid your body. He cannot confirm this with veritisiruem because of the laws in the ministry about distributing it to muggles. It has nasty effects on non-magical people. So now the whole wizarding world is grieving for their lost hero."  
  
Harry gaped at the woman. They all thought he was dead? Oh poor Ron and Hermione. He hated to think what his so-called death had done to them. Then Harry thought of Sirius. Sirius had already lost so much. Would he be all right? Seeing the conflicting emotions on Harry's face, Time thought it best to comfort him.  
  
"Don't worry Harry, I will personally make sure that not much time passes when you return. Just a year or so. You could be here for three hundred years and it could be only two years in your time. I'll make sure your friends are safe too dear. I think I can manage to keep them safe for a year or two."  
  
Harry smiled in gratitude, but his appetite was not as it used to be. He pushed his plate away and sighed. The big Viking, Thor, frowned at Harry when he saw him push his plate away. He pushed it back towards Harry. When Harry looked questioningly at Thor, Thor said sternly, "Yeh need ta eat boy! Yeh look like skin an' bones. It'll be bet ter fer trainin yeh up if yeh didn't blow away when de wind starts a blowin'"  
  
Harry chuckled at Thor's choice of words and began to eat again. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. After all, he would see them one again, it's not like it's forever.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Though Harry thought about staying in Time's realm forever flippantly, he would be surprised at how close to forever it came. Years and Years passed for Harry. He became stronger both physically and magically. He grew to the height of about 6'' feet, gained much more muscle, and became wiser and cleverer than Dumbledore himself, but he still looked undoubtly like Harry Potter. His magical powers rivaled those of Merlin, and Harry had spent more time in the library than Rowena Ravenclaw had ever dared.  
  
Surprisingly, Time had had Harry learn the Dark Arts. Her reasoning was, "There is really no such thing a Dark Magic and Light Magic. It all depends on the castor's soul. If the castor is truly evil at the core, then magic classified as Dark Magic just emphasizes the castor's evilness. A truly Light wizard may use Dark Magic, and it will not make him go evil, but most Light wizards don't know that, and they are so adamant against the Dark that they will never figure it out. Tom Riddle is going to use both magics and so are you."  
  
Harry had discovered while he was in Time's realm that he had split personalities. He had the attributes of all four houses in Hogwarts, therefore he had four animagus forms. He could change into a black cat with green eyes, a black wolf with green eyes, a black snake with green eyes, and surprisingly an extinct and ancient bird, the Rai. The Rai was a cousin of the Phoenix, but instead of burning in fire regular fire once a month, this bird burns in black fire once a year. They are considered much more powerful than the Phoenix. The Rai was, unsurprisingly, black. It seemed to be his signature color these days.  
  
Today was the day that Harry would be traveling back to his own world. If his calculations were correct, He was somewhere in the late six hundreds, although he looked to be sixteen. He was very nervous about seeing his old friends. He hadn't seen them in years and they all thought he was dead. A mischievous gleam came to Harry's eyes. Oh he was going to have some fun.  
  
While in Time's realm, he had met his parents. Time did say that she could take Harry anywhere in time or outside of it, so Harry had decided that he would ask Time to take him to where his parents were to pay a visit. His poor mother had thought he had died, and was crying over him for at least half an hour. Of course Harry wasn't much better since he had never met his parents before. His father had taught him all the ropes about being a Marauder James was adamant that Harry was more cunning than the sneakiest Slytherin when it came to pranks. And right now, Harry's Marauder mind was planning on how to reveal to the world that he was indeed alive. Now, being the Marauder that he is, Harry wants to make the experience memorable. Especially to him.  
  
"Harry!" called a voice from his left. Harry was walking along the beach one last time. He turned and saw Morgana Le Fay coming towards him. She was the one that had taught him the Dark Arts, and in Harry's opinion she was Darker and more sadistic than Voldemort himself when she got angry. She was also one of Harry's ancestors. Harry had been very surprised at how many famous ancestors he had.  
  
"Hey Morgana, come to see me off?" asked Harry. Morgana smiled sadly at Harry. She only looked to be around twenty. She was short with long black hair and piercing green eyes like Harry's. "I'm going to miss you my little Raven. You are going to have to come visit me after you deal with old Snakeface, ok?" asked Morgana. Raven was Harry's nickname that he had picked up. He had complimented one day about the majority of his ancestors having black hair. Morgana had jokingly called him Raven Head, and Raven had just stuck.  
  
"Of course I'll visit you Morgana," said Harry, "Nothing can keep me from visiting my family." Morgana sniffed discreetly and dabbed at her eyes with her purple handkerchief. She was known for her love of purple.  
  
"You know that they all think you're dead, right?" asked Morgana.  
  
Harry smiled mischievously. "Yes, but can you imagine their faces when the dead guy shows up?" asked Harry. Morgana laughed softly. The laughter turned into a quiet sob.  
  
Before he even saw her move, Harry was swept up into a hug by an emotional Morgana. "You be careful Harry. If you get killed, you will suffer a whole lot of pain from me before you can even cross over." And with that comforting sentiment, Morgana was gone.  
  
Harry walked along the beach for a time afterward. He needed to go to the storerooms and get some potion ingredients before he left. It wasn't everyday everybody in the world thought you were dead. The pranking possibilities were endless.  
  
Harry headed to the storeroom in the basement of Time's manor. All the while trying to memorize each and every detail about the manor that had been his home for well over six centuries. He was going to miss all of his ancestors. He had said good-bye to them at the going-away party yesterday, but he still just couldn't believe he was leaving them. They were the blood family he always wanted and never had.  
  
Harry opened the door to the basement, and with a wave of his hand, cast a lighting spell. He climbed down the stairs and started looking for ingredients that he would like to take back with him. He grabbed a jar of crushed Pezlepods, which were bug like creatures used especially in ancient potions, and he also took a vile of Lepsie hair, which is a cousin of the Veela, though they live in the oceans. Sailors called them Sirens, and the sound of their singing will drive any man to insanity, like the Veela and their looks.  
  
Once Harry had collected all of the ingredients that he needed, he went back to his room and packed them into his trunk. With a wave of his hand, he shrunk his trunk and put it in the pockets of his robes. He was now ready to go back to his home realm.  
  
Harry made his way to Time's study. She was going to open a portal for him that would take him to Hogsmeade. He sighed sadly as he walked the familiar halls of Time's manor. This was the last time that he was going to see this place for a long time. He stopped at a large ebony door with carvings of flowers. He pushed open the heavy door and went inside.  
  
Time was at her desk, writing on something, but looked up as Harry entered. She gave him a small, though sad smile. "Cheer up Raven, You can come back as soon as you defeat Tom. It's not like it's forever." Harry snorted at her choice of words. The last time he didn't think it as forever, it was close to six hundred years. That was about as forever as it got in his book. However, now that the time had come for him to leave, he didn't really want to.  
  
Time stood up and wiped the nonexistent wrinkles from her white robes. Harry himself had black robes on, as usual.  
  
"Alright Harry, come here."  
  
Harry came and stood in font of Time. She closed her eyes and started whispering in a strange language that Harry didn't know, and that was saying something since Harry knew more languages than any other being alive. Unbeknownst to Harry, a portal, a big swirling hole that could be considered a black hole if the different colors weren't there, opened up behind him. Time opened her eyes, and Harry was immediately wary. He knew that mischievous gleam all too well for his liking. Last time he had seen it, he ended up comatose for a month.  
  
"I hope you have a nice trip Harry. Remember that I really don't care what you tell your friends about where you were, although I doubt they'll care as long as you are back. Don't scare them too much and be safe little Raven," said Time as she pushed Harry roughly back into the open portal.  
  
Harry gave a startled yell as he was pushed into the swirling vortex. He really should have expected something like that from Time. He swore she could be worse than a Marauder sometimes. The Swirling Vortex of Doom, or How I Spent My Summer Vacation, as Harry fondly dubbed it, was ten times worse than any floo trip. After all, the time in which he was in the void was about as long as summer to him.  
  
Then all the sudden the spinning stopped, and Harry landed on the ground with a dull thud. "Ouch," moaned Harry. He stood up and wiped the dirt off of his black robes. He looked around, trying to figure out where he was, and discovered that he was on the road to Hogsmeade, half way to Hogwarts. He wondered how many years had passed since he had disappeared. He looked to be about sixteen, so he guessed one or two.  
  
It was dark out. The moon was just over a quarter full, but it still gave out enough light for him to make his way up to the castle. Before Harry could mentally go over his plans, he saw a dark figure coming up the road from Hogsmeade towards him. He reached out with his aura and tried to identify who it was. It came to Harry as a shock to identify Severus Snape, his old Potion's Master.  
  
Harry's frown turned into a full-blown evil smirk. It was just to good of an opportunity to pass up. Oh yes, suddenly coming back to life is way fun. Harry walked casually towards his one time professor. Just as Snape was about to pass him, Harry stepped in front of him. Snape seemed surprised that someone would voluntarily step in his path. Harry just waved enthusiastically at Snape, who was about five feet in front of him. He sneered at Harry and spoke.  
  
"Well well well, what do we have here? A Hogwarts student out of Hogwarts grounds in the middle of the night. My you are a dumb boy. I could have you expelled for this. What is your name, boy?" sneered Snape.  
  
Harry grinned innocently at the man, although it was too dark for Snape to see. "Oh Professor Snape! It's so good to see you again. I haven't seen you in years! How have you been? How's old Voldie doing? Is he still as ugly as ever? By the way, could you tell me what year it is? Being dead does have its disadvantages."  
  
Snape seemed to redden. His pale face was taking on a nasty reddish hue. "How dare you talk to me with such impudence! I could have you expelled for your lack of respect! One hundred points from whichever House you are in. Now, I demand to know your name at once!" Harry's smile widened. Apparently it was too dark for the potion's master to recognize him. He felt a little sorry for Gryffindor, but did it really count if he was technically dead to the world?  
  
"Why, I can't believe you don't remember me. After all, you always told me I was the bane of your existence. I'll give you three guesses and two clues. One, you hate my father with a passion and you were always very vocal about his arrogance and mine when I was around. Two, I used to be, and probably will be number one on our resident megalomaniac's hit list. Can you guess my name Professor?" asked Harry innocently.  
  
Snape took out his wand and cast lumos. He stared at Harry wide eyed for a whole minute, then stuttered, "P-Potter? How. . ." Harry's grin widened.  
  
"Got it in one Professor," said Harry as he waved his hand. A magical camera appeared in the air, and Harry took a picture of Snape's gob smacked expression. It was one that you would rarely, more and likely never, catch on the man's face. Harry would make a fortune off of that picture one day.  
  
Snape, who was used to keeping calm in dangerous situations because of his "extra curricular activities" had by all means gone into shock. Now when someone goes into shock, they are pretty much unresponsive to the rest of the world. Some people even lose consciousness. Snape, apparently, was one of those people, as Harry could tell by the thud of a body hitting the ground.  
  
The light on the end of Snape's wand had extinguished with its master's consciousness, and Harry was once again bathed in darkness.  
  
Harry laughed loudly.  
  
He laughed so hard that he had tears steaming down the side of his cheeks. He was literally rolling on the ground, banging his fists. He laughed so hard that he lost his breath and ended up in a coughing fit.  
  
Anyone who could have seen Harry at that moment would have thought him insane. The truth is, that even Harry isn't sure about that. All Harry knows, is that he just gained one of the most charitable memories.  
  
~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`  
  
A/N: Thank you all for your reviews! Please keep them coming! I strive on reviews and support! Tell me what you think, and don't hesitate to ask any questions!  
  
| You know you want to. Come on, just thirty seconds of your time. Please? It'll make me happy. | \|/ 


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three  
  
Harry grinned as he admired his handy work. Yes, these pictures were going to make him a very rich wizard one day. He had taken Snape's unconscious body and had hung him on the Hogwarts gate. He had then transfigured his robes into the famous white suite of the dead muggle singer Elvis. Complete with the white stilettos. Oh yes, Harry Potter was going to be a rich man indeed.  
  
However, as Harry had discovered when he had resided in Time's realm, he was already a very rich man. His vault that he had previously been using was just a trust fund that his parents had set up for him when he was born. Dumbledore was supposed to give him the key to his family vault when he had graduated from Hogwarts, but his dad had given him the extra key on one of Harry's numerous visits to the Otherworld. His father had also told him that his fortune rivaled that of the Malfoy's, which Harry was particularly smug about. He planned on giving some of his money to the Weasley's, albeit anonymously. He didn't think they would have taken the money if they knew it had been him that gave it to them.  
  
He briefly entertained the thought of leaving a note in their vault saying they had recently won Witch Weekly's yearly prize for the most imaginative garden. Yes, that would probably work, but only if they didn't check Witch Weekly to confirm it. The Weasleys had helped him in more ways than even they knew, and he couldn't think of any better way of repaying the financially challenged family than by boosting their bank account.  
  
After all of the pictures of "The King" had been taken, Harry decided to make a visit to the bank himself. He needed to get some money out of his vault as he planned to buy a small house somewhere. He didn't want anything too fancy, just big enough for the basics. He left the hanging body of the professor on the Hogwarts gate. Hopefully someone would think to look up there sometime in the next few days. It would be a shame to have a perfectly good prank ruined because nobody saw it. Oh, and Snape probably would need to eat too. Damn those annoying habits.  
  
Harry took one last look the silhouette of the Potion Master before he apparated to Diagon Alley. He mentally went through what he had to do as he walked to Gringotts. First he needed money. Then he would go to the apothecary to get the ingredients for his next prank. After that was taken care of, Harry decided he could conceivably rent a room at the Leaky Caldron for about an hour, and make a quick potion. Then he would put his second prank into action.  
  
Harry arrived at the bank and went to the nearest goblin. There weren't many people there since it was around eleven or so at night. Most wizards would be home with their families by now. In fact, the only other human in the bank was an ancient looking witch arguing with a goblin about a muggle/wizard money transition. The goblin that Harry went to eyed him warily, for Harry had the hood of his cloak back up, and he did look quite suspicious. But still, you had to be mad to try and pull anything over a goblin.  
  
"Hello good sir. I would like to make a withdrawal from my vault," said Harry politely as he handed the goblin the key. The goblin scrutinized the key for a whole minute, and then said quietly, "Very well Mr. Potter. All seems to be in order. Snortcraq will show you the way," then in a louder voice, "Snortcraq! Show this young gentleman to his vault." The goblin handed Harry back his key, and he followed the brownish looking goblin to the rail carts. It was very hard for Harry to keep from snickering. He wasn't even going to mentally comment on that name.  
  
The cart ride was just as wild and jerky as the last ride he had the /pleasure/ to endure. However, this particular cart ride seemed to last twice as long. It appeared that the Potter family vault was deeper underground than his trust fund. Forty minutes later, a somewhat green looking Harry and a grumpy goblin reached vault seventy-seven. Hagrid was right. The had passed a few dragons along the way. The goblin jumped out of the cart and went to the vault with Harry following shakily after. It was almost like he was suffering the after effects of a jelly legs jinx.  
  
"Key please, Mr. Potter," demanded Snortcraq. Harry dutifully handed over his key and watched as Snortcraq uncovered the keyhole with one of his long, hooked fingernails. Snortcraq inserted the key and turned. The vault opened and green and yellow smoke billowed out. Harry had always wondered why multi-colored smoke came out of the vaults that he had visited, so he decided to ask.  
  
"Security measure," smirked the goblin evilly. Harry decided he didn't want to know the details. As Harry stepped into his vault, he was momentarily stunned. Oh my yes, he was a very /very/ rich man indeed. Mounds of gold, silver, and copper lined the walls. It was just so much that Harry got a crick in his neck trying to see to the top of a pile of galleons.  
  
There was also a large collection of antique furniture. Everything from chase lounges, four poster beds, dining room tables, and oriental carpets were spread haphazardly through out his vault. There was even a multitude of portraits of, what Harry assumed were his deceased relatives, hung upon the vault wall. They all appeared to be taking a snooze though.  
  
A not so polite cough from behind him brought him back to reality. Apparently Snortcraq was not very patient when it came to awe struck wizards. 'But,' Harry admitted to himself, 'I am a very /wealthy/ awe struck wizard.'  
  
With a gleeful sort of skip, Harry took a small sack, which was magically expanded inside, from the inner pocket of his cloak and filled it with galleons, sickles, and a few knuts. Once he was sure he had enough, he started to leave, but his attention was drawn to a small, nondescript wooden box sitting a mound of sickles by the vault door. Interested, Harry grabbed the box before he left. He would have to look at it when there weren't any impatient goblins around.  
  
~*~  
  
The summer night air wrapped itself around Harry like a warm blanket as he stepped out of Gringotts. He was curious about the box that he had found in his family vault. His parents had not mentioned anything about it when he had last visited them. It had either slipped their minds, or they had just chosen not to mention the mysterious box.  
  
Harry went to the apothecary shop to buy some ingredients for the "big prank", which he had dubbed it. The man running the apothecary was sallow skinned and sour looking with long brown-gray hair tied into an unkempt ponytail. He looked kind of like he had just tasted an especially sour lemon. He greeted Harry with a grunt, and then went back to cataloguing his new potions shipments.  
  
Seven milligrams pickled newt tails, four ounces of crushed hag teeth, a half a pint of grim blood, and a gram of shrivilfigg later, Harry walked out of the apothecary shop twenty galleons poorer. He was very thankful that most of the shops in Diagon Alley were open twenty-four hours, because it would have been a bit troublesome to visit a shop in Canada because of the time difference.  
  
Harry laughed lightly as the mental images of what he had planned played through his head. He just couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts. Too bad he wouldn't have much of an audience. He then headed for the Leaky Caldron to rent a room for an hour or so. Tom, the barkeeper, greeted him with a friendly smile.  
  
" 'Ello there stranger. What can I get for ye?" asked Tom. Harry smiled, but it remained unseen because of the cloak still hiding his identity.  
  
"Hello, I was wondering if I could rent a room for about two hours." Tom already bright smile widened, taking on a mischievous appearance.  
  
"Only two hours ye say?" Tom asked slyly. Harry looked at Tom confused. "Yes," Harry said slowly, unsure of what Tom meant, "Only two hours." Tom smirked knowingly at Harry. "Of course sir. Just sign your name at the register, and when ye sign out ye can pay me. I hope you /enjoy/ your stay."  
  
Harry signed the register as "John Doe" and Tom gave him the key to room number seven. He shrugged off Tom's curious behavior and went to his room to work on the potion. Harry would ponder over this conversation for quite awhile. He would finally understand what Tom was hinting at a week later. He would be red with embarrassment for hours.  
  
Once Harry had sealed and warded the door, something he developed as a habit during his training with King Arthur, he unshrunk his caldron that he had in one of his numerous cloak pockets. He was very much surprised when he found out that the legendary King Arthur none other than one more of his annoying ancestors. He was even more surprised when he discovered that his oh so many greats grandfather loved pranks even more than he did. Thus, he was annoying. Harry couldn't count the number of times he woke up with green hair, orange skin, large breasts, and a craving for sardines. Harry shuddered at the mere thought.  
  
Harry started on a simple transparency potion. While it was bubbling merrily, he took out his second caldron and unshrunk it. He cast a heating spell on his newly made feather light potion, then put a cooling charm on the transparency potion. After he had put the cooling charms on both potions, he decided to look at the mysterious box he had swiped from his vault. It would be at least another twenty minutes before both potions were ready.  
  
The box was a simple box, with no extraordinary features. It was just a plain wooden box. The latch came off easily at Harry's touch, and he lifted the lid. Inside were papers. He was mildly disappointed, but that was fleeting as he soon found out. Harry lifted the first one and was surprised that it was his birth certificate. He eyed the name Harlington in disdain, and continued to riffle through the papers. It was mostly birth certificates of his parents, grandparents, Aunt and Uncles long deceased from his father's side of the family, but at the bottom were a few papers that caught his eye.  
  
Harry looked at the papers with nothing short of awe. It seems that he didn't have to buy a house after all. Harry was now the proud owner of a villa in the south of France, a small castle in Scotland, and a cottage in Ireland. He was particularly excited when he found the deed to a small island off the coast of Italy. Although the island did not have a house, that could be easily changed. It was about the size of a football field.  
  
Harry grinned as he put the deed to all of his new residences in his cloak pocket. He would have to check out that island after some more fun at Hogwarts. He examined the potions, and nodded thoughtfully. They were coming along fine. Another five minutes and they should both be at the right consistency for consumption. He took the rest of the papers and put them back into the box. He locked the latch, shrunk it, and put it in his innermost pocket.  
  
After Harry had taken care of all of the things on his large agenda, he would get to work on thinking of his plans to defeat the Dark One, more commonly known as Voldemort, He Who Must Not Be Named, or You Know Who to most everybody else. Voldemort was Dark's Champion as Harry was Light's Champion, and both were going to have a collision of the powers very soon. It was just a matter of time before the final battle of Light vs. Dark was going to take place. At least the final battle for this millennium.  
  
Harry bottled the two potions when they were ready, and then he checked out of the Inn. Tom grinning slyly the whole time.  
  
Harry apparated to the edge of the Hogwart's wards. No matter how powerful he was, he could not get through Hogwart's anti-apparating wards. The wards were linked directly to the four founder's magic, and were strengthened when they had died. Not even Merlin himself could have gotten through them.  
  
Harry knew, because even though he was not blood related to Merlin, he was related to him by marriage. It's funny to think that mortal enemies can become lovers. Although, Harry very seriously thought that was not going to happen to him and Voldemort. Merlin was the second husband of Morgana, and Harry had the pleasure of befriending the jovial old man. Morgana's first husband, who was Harry's ancestor, was some Dark Lord who was the cause of the sinking of Atlantis. Needless to say, Harry didn't spend much time with that guy.  
  
Harry stealthily sneaked up the path to Hogwarts; keeping a look out for wandering students or teachers. It was almost the end of the school year, and Harry wouldn't put it past some students to be breaking the rules before they left school. Harry had to stifle a snort when he saw a shred of heart-covered underwear still on the Hogwart's gate. 'So I /had/ been right to charm his underwear,' mused Harry.  
  
Harry opened the bulky doors a crack and discreetly peeked head through into the Entrance Hall. The hall thankfully seemed to be deserted, so he quietly entered and closed the door behind him. He made his way to a conveniently located broom closet just up the stairs. Many students also found this closet convenient for snogging places. He made it to the closet without him being seen. It must have been one o'clock, so he shouldn't have to be too worried about wayward students. He just hoped that Snape was sitting in Dumbledore's office, with McGonnagal if he was lucky. Harry sniggered quietly to himself. The Professors must think Snape was nuts to be wearing that outfit. That or he had a weird Elvis fetish.  
  
Harry downed both potions and waited for the effects to take place. He felt his body become lighter, and all the sudden, he was floating.  
  
"Lumos," whispered Harry. Yep, he was transparent, but still easily recognizable as a man. He tightened his long black cloak around him until nothing of his clothes, hands, or face was visible. He looked eerily like a dementor, minus the heavy breathing and chilling effects of course.  
  
He opened the closet doors and jogged, or glided really fast since he was floating, down the hall towards the headmaster's office. He reached the gargoyle without anybody seeing him, although he had to take a longer route to avoid Mrs. Norris. He placed his hand on the arm of the gargoyle, and the word "skiving snackboxes" materialized in his mind's eye. Another useful little trick he had learned over the years. He said the password and ascended the stairs. The sound of a heated discussion floated through the thick, mahogany door. Harry put his ear to the surface to hear better.  
  
"......-lbus, I SAW Potter! He was the one to do that ridiculous prank to me! The insolent little brat is ALIVE!" bellowed an angry Snape. Harry could hear muffled laughter. He guessed they were probably having an Order meeting judging by all the voices. All the more fun.  
  
He had learned about the Order of the Phoenix while he was in Time's realm. It originated in the time of the founder's, but ironically started out as a magical circus. There was a phoenix that traveled with the circus, and it was a very popular attraction. So the circus became known as the Order of the Phoenix. A Dark Lord had been terrorizing the locals, and the Order people felt it was bad for business. They banded together, the clowns, bearded ladies, and half human half antelope, all of them and defeated the evil Dark Lord and his weak followers. He was a pretty pathetic Dark Lord if a whole bunch of weirdoes from a circus could defeat him. The weirdoes, uh, Order members decided to train themselves in case any other miscreant decided to jeopardize their business. However, from there on out they protected the innocent from the wicked and gradually forgot about performances.  
  
"As much as I would like to believe you, Severus, I don't believe that it could have been Harry. He's been dead for two years," said the grave voice of Albus Dumbledore. 'Ah,' thought Harry, 'So that's how long I've been gone.'  
  
"But Albus, what if Snape was right? What if Harry has come back to us? They never did find his body," tentatively question Ned the voice of Harry's godfather. Harry's heart leaped when he heard Sirius's voice. God how he had missed it, that deep comforting voice. It made him feel safe, like a child being held by his father. That was what Harry considered Sirius as-- his surrogate father.  
  
"I wouldn't get your hopes up Sirius," consoled the voice of Tonks comfortingly, "You've been through enough already."  
  
"But Snape could be right! I propose that we search Hogsmeade and the Hogwart's grounds. It might be Harry, but then again it might not. If this is somebody's idea of a sick joke, then I want to be there to kick his as-"  
  
"Tonks is right, Padfoot. We can hope that it really was Harry, but you know the chances are highly unlikely," said hurriedly interrupted Remus Lupin before his friend could say something objectionable. Ah, Professor Lupin. Always the logical one.  
  
"It could possibly have been Harry, or if it was an imposter that looked just like him, then they must have been using Polyjuice Potion. If that's the case, then maybe Harry is alive because he would have to be for the Polyjuice to work. We could question the imposter under Verituserum and find out where they were keeping him. We could bring him home!" cried Mrs. Weasley.  
  
"You forget that hair is already dead. Potter could be dead, but they can still be using a Polyjuice Potion," snapped Snape. This statement seemed to put a puncher in the groups rising hopes.  
  
"But..." started Sirius.  
  
"If it is an imposter Black, then they'll get what coming to them once we find them. I'll personally see to it," interrupted the gruff voice of Mad- Eye Moody.  
  
Harry was feeling somewhat guilty about what he intended to tell the people inside that office, but it would be better in the long run. He decided now was the time to act so he loudly knocked on the door. Dead silence greeted this seemingly innocent action. Harry grinned evilly, his guilt almost forgotten, but not quite. This was going to be great fun.  
  
Arthur Weasley, who was sitting closest to it, opened the door. While the shocked Order members gapped at the thing in the doorway, Harry surveyed the Order members. They consisted of Dumbledore, Snape, Sirius, Remus, Arthur, Molly, Tonks, Moody, McGonnagal, Bill and Charlie Weasley, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mundunges Fletcher, and Arabella Figg. He was momentarily surprised to learn that his old babysitter was a witch, but quickly suppressed it. He didn't want his cover blown. He wouldn't have been able to recognize her if he hadn't been to Time's realm. Mind Probing does have its benefits, which he had shallowly touched on each of the occupant's minds to identify them.  
  
The Order members were very much surprised to have what appeared to be a ghost darkening their doorway.  
  
"Who are you?" sneered Snape.  
  
"What do you want?" growled Moody.  
  
"Better yet, what are you?" asked Sirius. Remus shot him a brief glare before refocusing his attention back to the 'thing' in the doorway. He wanted to know that as well, but he wasn't as blunt or impolite as Sirius. It could be accentually fatal to irk an unknown creature.  
  
"Yes, I would also like to know how you got the password to my office, as it has been changed within the last half hour. May I inquire as to what you want?" asked the Headmaster. A pleasant smile crossing his face, although there was a twinkle of suspicion in his icy blue eyes.  
  
Harry grinned widely, though nobody could tell. Not even Moody with his magically eye could see his shadowed face. Harry drew a long, rattled breath. Purely for show of course. It wasn't like he had problems or anything.  
  
"Which one of you is Severus Snape?" asked Harry. Many fingers were immediately pointed in Snape's direction, who was looking a little ashen at being brought to the attention of the dementor like being.  
  
With a voice that would make even the Dark Lord pause and stare, Harry spoke fiercely. "I AM THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PAST." He waited for a moment for the words to take effect. Expressions ranged from humor to horror. Apparently some wizards did read Charles Dickens, but took it a tad bit seriously than was supposed to since they seemed to be truly scared.  
  
Harry snorted, turned to Snape, and then said in a more business like tone, "Sorry about all the dramatics--protocol you see. Always have to greet potential clients like that. Anyways, I am here to see you, Severus Snape. My agency got a call a couple of days ago from a Yura Asse about a one Severus Snape, a cold hearted Potion's Master, who is in need of our professional assistance. I am here to offer a three step program to becoming more sociably adept and over all likable. Mr. Snape, you would have three mental specialists, including myself, working from midnight on until you have made a full recovery. If you would like to see a brochure, I'm sure I have some with me. A one Mr. E. Scrooge has been our spokes- person for many years. He was our first successful case you see. Our program will also teach you the true meaning of Christmas, although that is still a ways away. So how about it? Would you care to enroll in our special program, Mr. Snape? I have been aware ever since it was brought to my attention, that you are not the most, er, nice or /cleanly/ person there is. I am sure that after your rehabilitation such nicknames as 'Greasy Old Rotting Ball of Slime', 'Slimy Git', 'Dungeon Dwelling Freak', 'Overgrown Bat Out of Hell', and the infamous 'Sevvie Lou' will be withdrawn from the tongues of you're co-workers and students alike."  
  
Harry had to bite his bottom lip to keep from laughing. Snape's face was really just too much. Harry had never seen him this angry, or red for that matter, ever. He could almost see steam blowing out through Snape's nostrils. The whole group just sat and gaped at Harry. Even the Headmaster seemed surprised. Harry couldn't take it anymore, but he bit his lip harder and tried to remain under control of his mirth.  
  
"Sevvie or Snivvie Lou?" snickered Sirius. That is, until Remus elbowed him in the gut. Sirius winced and glared at Remus, but stopped laughing. Snape looked somewhere in-between of killing Harry right on the spot or busting a blood vessel that was throbbing on his forehead. Harry could almost swear that he could hear the Potion Master's teeth grinding together.  
  
Harry took a camera out of the folds of his cloak and snapped a picture. Harry's lip was beginning to bleed, and he couldn't stop the giggles that consumed him. His laughter rang out in the silent room. The Order members looked confusedly amongst themselves for anybody who knew what was going on. Nobody seemed to. Harry continued chuckling to himself and brought out his wand. The other occupants in the Headmaster's office were on their feet with their wands ready to defend themselves the instant Harry drew his wand. Harry paid no mind to the reactions of the group, and waved his wand up and down his body muttering counter affects to the potions he had consumed.  
  
Where a floating, transparent ghost like creature stood, a solid man in a long black cloak took its place.  
  
"I'm really, truly sorry about that. I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to have some fun; it was just way too good. Although, I don't believe anybody in here has read 'A Christmas Carol' anyway. A muggle book you know. Oh well, I found it amusing. Sorry if I interrupted your meeting, but I just got here from a very long journey, and I just wanted to have a little fun. Although, I don't think Snapes here found it amusing, huh Sevvie Lou?" asked Harry.  
  
Snape growled at Harry was about to retort, but was interrupted by the Headmaster.  
  
"That is all good and dandy young man, but would you care to enlighten us with your identity?" smiled Dumbledore serenely, though he still had a suspicious edge to his voice that was only noticeable to Harry himself. When you had lived as long as Harry, you start to read people's emotions between the lines.  
  
"Well, with all do respect Headmaster, who I am is irreverent, because I'm not going to tell you. I just came here to tell you something of importance," said Harry bluntly, who had his voice disguised and his face still well hidden. Although just in case, he morphed his face into that of one of Vernon Dursley's employers that had been over to the house for dinner the last summer Harry was there.  
  
"Oh, and what may that be?" asked Dumbledore. Harry smirked inwardly. Actors always fascinated him when he was a child, although thanks to the Dursleys he never got to see much of them in action. The only time he had truly been able to study their art was when he was at Mrs. Figg's house and had been allowed to watch the television. He thought the concept of being another person, even if it was just pretending, was truly magical in its own way. It was neat because you could be anything and anybody your imagination could come up with. Before he had learned about Hogwarts, he had dreamed of becoming an actor. Well, it seemed that he was going to put his acting skills to the test now.  
  
"I happen to know the where abouts of Harry James Potter, who by all accounts is certainly not dead."  
  
~*~  
  
he he he. . .Ok, that was a good place to end it. A little over seven pages. . . not bad. Do you think that was a cliffhanger? Oh well. This just seemed like a good place to end it.  
  
Ok, before any of you ask, this is not a super power Harry. He may seem like one now, but that is just because of his age and his experiences throughout his years in Time's realm. I might write a side fic detailing those little adventures. I mean, you'd pick up some skills along the way if you were six hundred and something years old. Tommy is just as powerful or maybe even more so than Harry because he is Dark's Champion. Harry is going to have to work to defeat him, if he does. &wink wink&  
  
Amy: Hmm, a counterpart for everything? I don't think /everything/ has a counterpart, just the important things! Someone helping Tommy boy? Well, you just have to wait and find out! 


	5. Chapter Four

Disclaimer: Blah blah blah. . . DON'T OWN IT. . .blah blah blah. . . but I do own the Blubber Blatthorns. . .  
  
Chapter Four  
  
Stunned silence greeted Harry's words. That is, until an enraged scream was heard from a certain angry godfather. I'm sure you all know the one.  
  
"YOU SICK BASTARD! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HIM? WHERE THE HELL IS HE? IF YOU'VE HURT HIM IN ANY WAY, I WILL FU-" Sirius was abruptly cut off from his rant when he was put under a silencing charm from Harry, although this did not deter Sirius in the least. He just attacked him physically.  
  
"Whoa! Down boy! Calm down!" said Harry as he ducked a punch thrown at his head and put a partial body bond jinx on Sirius's legs, which snapped together. Sirius fell on his face with a silent scream of rage. Snape snorted in the corner at Harry's not to subtle joke about Sirius's animagus form.  
  
Dumbledore regarded the cloaked figure with absolutely no twinkle in his eyes. If Harry had been the age he was supposed to be in this time, it would have made his cringe away and possible try find a small hole somewhere, crawl in, and wait to die. Now it just gave him a muted, cold feeling in the pit of his stomach. This was nothing like Barty Crouch Jr. had to experience. Dumbledore's piercing gaze was ten times more terrible than the one he had given Barty that faithful night oh so long ago. Well, along time ago for Harry at least.  
  
"And where is Harry?" demanded the Headmaster, his voice full of power and authority. Well, here goes nothing. Harry had thought of a good cover story on his way to Hogwarts from Diagon Alley. He drew in a deep breath and began weave his tangled web of lies.  
  
"Well it all happened about two years ago. I came home from work to my wife, who is a muggle although I am a wizard, and found that there was a strange boy in her care. You see, she is a nurse at the local hospital, and the boy had been brought in by somebody and left there. She told me that no one had claimed the child and he had been at the hospital for months. He was badly beaten when he was brought in, and he suffered from amnesia. She had grown so fond of him, and him of her, that she decided to take him home with her and hopefully convince me to adopt the boy. Well, one look at his forehead and I was freaking out, I tell ya. I mean, the Boy Who Lived in my house, wanting to be adopted by Angela and me. Needless to say that I was shocked. We decided to let Harry live with us until he regained his memory. He didn't want to be shipped off to some foreign place with faces he didn't know. And besides, we had both grown very fond of him. He is almost like the child Angela and me could never have. Angela and I decided not to tell anyone from wizarding origin to keep Harry safe from He Who Must Not Be Named and his Death Eaters. Harry has just recently regained his memory. I'd say it's been about four or five months now, but he was deeply upset about his so-called family, He Who Must Not Be Named, and that boy, Cedric. He didn't want to face everyone just yet, so we made him promise to come back to school this semester for his seventh year. Now before any of you ask, I used to be a teacher at one of the lesser known wizarding schools in Europe, and even though Harry had lost his memory of his life, he could still remember spells. Harry had been brought into the hospital with a "strange stick thingie" as the doctors put it, but it was his wand. So he could be taught all of the fifth and sixth year material thoroughly. He will be completely caught up with his peers," finished Harry.  
  
Harry looked around at all of the faces in the small crowd gathered together in the Headmaster's office, and then to the Headmaster himself. Harry could have given a triumphant whoop right then and there. The looks on their faces clearly said they lapped up each and every word that had come out of Harry's mouth. If Harry weren't already a wizard, he wouldn't have definitely looked into a career in acting. The Headmaster was the first to break the silence.  
  
"Well, I believe that this is the best news I have heard in a very long time. Although, I would feel much more comfortable with young Harry's return a little sooner. Perchance tomorrow or next week at the latest?" asked the Headmaster, though it was more of a silent command than a request. One which Harry had no intention of obeying.  
  
"Harry needs to come home to his family!" sobbed Mrs. Weasley, who had started crying during the story. She was surrounded by all of the Weasley men who were trying in vain to comfort hurt.  
  
"Yes, I believe everybody will feel much better if Harry was brought home tomorrow," said Lupin anxiously. Snape snorted in the corner. Apparently he wouldn't feel better.  
  
The loud banging of Sirius's fist on the floor, where he still lay, was his protest to having his godson coming home almost four months from now. He wanted him now dammit, and he was going to tell that little bastard that was keeping him binded just what he thought of him trying to keep him from his godson. That is, if somebody ever remembers to take the silencing charm off.  
  
Harry shook his head and sighed. "I know how you all feel, but you must understand. Harry was beaten by his uncle. That can have some serious side effects on a child. He believes that he was not strong enough to handle his muggle uncle when he had defeated the strongest Dark Lord in centuries as a baby. He is ashamed that he could not have saved himself. Put that with his guilt for that boy Cedric's murder and the visions of He Who Must Not Be Named's torture sessions, and you have one pretty upset and disturbed kid, which is truly an understatement in this case. He doesn't want to face you all right now. He is still trying to recover and cope from everything now that he has his memories back. Four more months should be enough time for that pain of his to dull, and he will be able to return. I hope you all understand. I can't force Harry to come back too soon; it would only cause more problems in his already complicated life."  
  
Dumbledore reluctantly agreed with him, and told him to have Harry on the train to school in four months. Judging by the frantic banging on the floor, Sirius did not agree. Dumbledore and the Order asked about how Harry was doing academically wise, which Harry replied "average if not slightly above" and they also asked about his life in the muggle world and his well being in general. After all of the questions, which Harry had to make up the answers off the top of his head, he decided it was time for his departure.  
  
As Harry was leaving, Lupin told him to tell Harry that Sirius and him miss Harry greatly and love him very much. Harry had to blink back tears, and nodded in affirmative. He left quickly after that. He couldn't stand to be around those people any longer. He just wanted to be held by Sirius and Mrs. Weasley. Harry cursed silently under his breath. It seemed that not only his physical appearance had reverted to his sixteen almost seventeen body. He had emotionally also. Gone were the days when Harry could keep a cool mask over his emotions. Being back in his home realm decimated any hope of Harry being as he was before. He was now just a very /very/ old teenager. He wanted to be comforted by the friends and family that he had not seen in such a long long time now. But he couldn't give in to such petty indulgences. He had to train to defeat the Dark One, and if he did not it could possible mean the end of the world. It would be a worldwide dictatorship; muggle and wizarding alike. He had to get back to his "old" self, and that meant he had some training to do. Especially if he wanted to keep his cover when he got back to school.  
  
~*~  
  
Harry examined the small island he had apparated to after he had bypassed Hogwarts wards. It was big enough to build a moderately humble sized house. It was the size of an American football field. It had quite a few palm trees and bushes, although Harry could not identify the species of the latter. There was a small beach that framed the island. All in all, it was every warm weather lover's paradise. Harry decided that this is where he wanted to live for the next four months.  
  
Even though it was still rather dark, maybe around five or so in the morning, he decided to get to work right away. Two hours and a whole bunch of magic later, Harry had a beautiful new home. It was made out of some of the surrounding palm trees for lack of better material. It had a living room, kitchen, a bedroom, a small room where a toilet, shower, and sink where going to go as soon as Harry transfigured some sea shells into those things. It also had a very small library with built in shelves.  
  
Harry collected some seashells from his beach to transfigure into furniture. Now that it was morning, he could clearly see the individual shells so it was a lot easier to collect them. He gathered a few dozen or so, and brought them back to his small cottage. One hour later, Harry collapsed into a new four-poster bed with a Gryffindor color scheme. He was totally exhausted. He now had a half full library with comfy armchairs and a fireplace large enough for floo travel. The icebox and the pantry in the kitchen had a charm on it so that he would never run out of cold food, and the shower in his new bathroom would never run out of hot water. Harry had also set up some muggle repelling wards on the island as well as some advanced safety wards that even Dumbledore would have trouble breaking though. It had been a tiring day.  
  
Harry started to put his mental shields up so that he would be able to sleep with little or no trouble from Voldemort's prying. It didn't stop the visions, but at least it kept out any of the intentional ones. Thor had been the one to teach him Occumency(1) and Legimans(2). Along with weapons training. He was all most half way through when he felt another presence in his mind. It was only there for a second at most, but Harry knew what, or who, it was. The Dark One, Tom Marvolo Riddle, vilest of all evil beings, now knew that Harlington James Potter, Champion of the Light, had returned.  
  
~*~  
  
It had been three months since Harry had visited the Order. His training was going rather well, although there had been that incident with a shark when he had taken his morning swim. He was going to have that scar on his leg for the rest of his life, but the shark wasn't so lucky with its encounter with Harry. Shark stew was really quite tasty.  
  
Harry had visited his many new homes, but only the small castle in Scotland proved to be beneficial to his cause. It had a grand library where many ancient wizarding books were located. Needless to say, Harry cleaned out the whole library. He had to magically expand his own library on the island. Luckily he didn't have to change the house's structure. It was amazing what magic could do.  
  
Harry had also found a weapons room in his family's castle. After good deal of thought, he decided to keep a few daggers and throwing knives on his person. You could never be too prepared these days. Though Harry had laughed at the mental image of anyone seeing a lethal weapon on him at Hogwarts. That would be funny in a dangerous sort of way. He didn't want to be expelled in his last year. He also took two swords, a crossbow, and a staff. If anything it would decorate his living room, which was still pretty bare.  
  
When Harry had told the Order about his charge, "Harry's", visions, he had been purely speculating what he might see if he had been having said visions. He never had anymore of the nightly visits from Voldemort when he was in Time's realm. Though Harry soon learned that the lie he had told the Order members was not far from the truth. The visions did involve torture. It made Harry ill to watch, and he often had to brew Dreamless Sleep potions. They helped keep the visions away sometimes, but not all of the time, and he couldn't rely on the potion too much or he might become addicted.  
  
Voldemort had officially found out that Harry Potter was indeed back by his "loyal" Death Eater, Severus Snape. But of course, Snape was a spy for the Light, though Tom doesn't know that. The remaining populace had learned this information through an article in the Daily Prophet. By the time Harry got back to Hogwarts, everyone was going to know that he was alive and kicking.  
  
Harry had been training hard these past three months. He had gained some more muscle to his already muscled physic. He had also learned some new offensive and defensive spells from the ancient books he had picked up from his library. He had also regained some of his maturity that he had lost when he was transported back to his home realm. All in all, these past three months had been very productive. Although, he greatly missed his family back in Time's realm. He would have to plan a visit soon.  
  
He was worried about going back to Hogwarts. He didn't really want to deal with all of the questions and speculations from the student body. The article in the Daily Prophet only gave the bare bones, but none of the details. He already had his cover story worked out, and it fit with the one that "the mysterious stranger" told the Order Members. He just hoped that they wouldn't put him under Veritisuerum or anything. Though they didn't put "the mysterious stranger" under the influence of the potion. That was something to be optimistic about. He could bypass certain restraints of the potion, but he couldn't lie. Just stretch the truth a bit. But just in case, Harry made a mental note to visit a hospital and make the acquaintance of someone named Angela.  
  
Another thing that Harry worried about was his wand. It shared the same core with Voldemort's wand and both wands won't work properly against one another. If Harry wanted to defeat Voldemort, then he was going to have to acquire a new wand. The problem with getting a new wand is that it is illegal if your old wand is still intact.  
  
The Ministry of Magic carefully monitors the distribution of wands. Only when they have all of the pieces of a wizard's old wand are the wizards allowed to acquire another one. And even then it has to be under the supervision of a Ministry official. Only certain Unspeakables were allowed to be in the possession of two wands. And since it wasn't likely that a Ministry official would just pop up out of nowhere and take him to Olivander's without the pieces of Harry's wand, he was out of luck. Maybe Olivander would help him out of this tight spot. After all, he did need another wand to help save the world. Surely that was a good enough excuse.  
  
~*~  
  
It was a beautiful Saturday morning in Diagon Alley. Harried parents were being pulled about by hyperactive children. Mouth watering smells of food drifted lazily above the alley from the Leaky Caldron. Students greeted one another as they went into Flourish and Blotts to buy their schoolbooks.  
  
Harry was enjoying himself as he watched the people bustling about through the crowded shops. He was sitting outside Floritse's Ice Cream Parlor(3) enjoying a chocolate landslide double chip sundae. Complete with rainbow color changing syrup. He had already visited Gringotts for a little spending money. Although, the word 'little' was using it loosely. Very loosely. Harry had about three thousand galleons, sickles, and knuts worth of wizarding currency in his small, though magically expanded pouch. He had no idea what had happened to his old stuff when he had been taken away from his "home" as some people refer to it. Since he didn't have many possessions, discluding the items he transfigured from shells, he figured he needed to make a shopping trip.  
  
He decided that he would buy new robes after he had finished his ice cream and after that get his new schoolbooks. Maybe window shop a bit. Then he would pay a visit to Olivander. Hopefully he would be able to get a second wand. He prayed silently to whomever was listening that it wouldn't take as long as the first time he had bought a wand. He didn't want to be at the wand shop all day.  
  
He briefly thought about getting a new owl, but decided against it. There would be no better owl than Hedwig, although she was somewhere still in Time's realm in the company of a beautiful Eagle Owl, who just happened to be the father of Hedwig's children. He would have to go back and get her someday, but not now. He was just too busy preparing for the Light vs. Dark battle between him and the Order, Tommy Boy, and Tommy's evil minions.  
  
Harry made his way though the tide of people to Madame Malkins. Nobody gave him a second glance, and that was because he was in disguise. Well, sort of. You see, during his training with his ancestors, he had discovered that Napoleon was a metamorphamagi and that trait had been passed down to Harry. He had always thought it was just accidental magic when he was younger when his hair grew back after his aunt had cut it. It seems that that was his metamorphamagi powers showing though, and since there were no wizards around to recognize the signs, his powers went dormant. If they had been trained liked Tonk's had, then he would have been able to change his appearance since he was six. Napoleon had helped him break through the barrier to help him master his powers.  
  
Harry's mind still boggles to think that the great self-proclaimed emperor of France was one of Harry's ancestors. Not to mention a wizard and a metamorphamagi at that. Napoleon was a strict and harsh teacher, and he had put Harry through his paces. Harry would never forget the day he had asked Napoleon why he chose to stay so short if he could make himself taller. His shortness was kind of an issue with the small emperor. Never mention anything about midgets in front of Napoleon. Unless you are a maschotist. Napoleon had replied, "It is better to appear weak to your enemy so that they may underestimate your true strength. Cockiness may be the deciding factor in battle."  
  
So, true to his ancestor's words, Harry was now a short, but lanky, handsome young man with sandy colored hair and light brown eyes. Now you may think that his size would hinder Harry when he would get fitted for his new school robes, but with a little helpful spell Harry had learned a century or two ago from an elf friend, that could be all fixed. He just needed to new material to work with.  
  
As he walked into the shop, a bell sounded some where back in the store. A short, plump witch with fly away silver hair and a bright smile greeted him.  
  
"Hello dear, how can I help you today?" asked Madame Malkin as she offered her hand in greeting. Harry bent low to kiss her hand while Madame Malkin blushed lightly.  
  
"Hello Madame, my name is Christopher Le Magnae. I was wondering if you would be so kind as to measure me for a set of school robes. I start my seventh year at Hogwarts soon, and I am in dire need of your expertise," said Harry suavely. He had a bit of a French accent as he spoke to Madame Malkin.  
  
"Why Monsieur Le Magnae, I would be delighted to offer my assistance," giggled Madame Malkin. She bounded away to fetch her measuring tape and cloth samples. Harry could have that affect on the female population if he wanted to. It all came with years of experience of wooing young ladies in different time periods. Harry loved playing the debonair and romantic French man.  
  
Not five minutes later, somebody that Harry knew all too well walked into the store. Somebody he wasn't overly happy to see. Draco Malfoy strutted into the small shop as if he owned the place. Madame Malkin gestured him over to the raised platform next to Harry. It was all too reminiscent to that day seven years ago.  
  
"I don't believe I have ever seen you before at Hogwarts," drawled Malfoy, "Are you an exchange student?" This question was of course directed at Harry, who had to do some quick thinking.  
  
"You could say that," replied Harry smoothly. Malfoy merely raised an eyebrow, but made no attempt to question him further.  
  
"My name is Draco Malfoy. What's yours?" asked Malfoy. Harry smiled slightly, trying to be polite.  
  
"My name is Christopher Le Magnae(4). It's a pleasure to meet you," said Harry, who extended his hand. If he was going attempt to be polite, then he might as well offer his friendship. It wasn't like Christopher Le Magnae was ever going to meet Draco Malfoy again anyway. Malfoy smiled and shook the offered hand.  
  
"The pleasure is all mine Christopher. So, do you play quidditch at all?" asked Malfoy. And with that, the ice between them was broken. For the next forty five minutes Harry and Draco talked about quidditch, school, and their general interests as they were measured. Harry was greatly surprised to find that Draco had much of the same interests in common. He was also surprised Draco could act like a normal teenager other than some pompous clone of his father's. It seemed that they both liked checkers opposed to chess, enjoyed transfiguration better than any other subject, and preferred boxers over briefs. Draco also had a strange affinity to kittens, although his father had never allowed him to have one.  
  
"And I quote him on this, Christopher. He said, "Felines are weak, Draco. If you would like to be considered a Malfoy, I would suggest losing such a fondness for cats." I can't believe he said that. Wait, yes I can. He is my father after all. Bastard. There is nothing is wrong with cats," stated Draco. Harry chuckled and agreed with him. For he, too, liked cats. Although he didn't like them as much as Draco did. They then started to talk about Hogwarts. Harry was very shocked to hear what Draco had to say about potions.  
  
"Potions is somewhat interesting, but I absolutely hate it. You better watch out for Professor Snape, he teaches Potions. He's a down right bastard to all of the students who aren't in Slytherin House. I really don't like him, but I have to pretend to because my father and him are close friends. That's also why he always praises my work even when it's shit. I can't stand the slimy git sometimes. He's okay in when you are with him in private, but he tends to have mood swings like a witch with PMS."  
  
Harry had laughed at this imaginative description of Snape. Snape with PMS. Now that was disturbing to think about. As they were leaving the shop, Malfoy asked Harry a question that took him for surprise.  
  
"Hey Christopher, I was wondering if you would like to go to a quidditch game with me next week? Crabbe and Goyle, you remember me telling you about them right? The two dumb-bells with the IQ of a head of lettuce between them? Well, I have to associate with them because my father /orders/ me to, but I really don't like them. So anyway, they won't be able to go, and I was wondering if you wanted to?" asked Draco.  
  
He gave Harry puppy dog eyes and Harry laughed out loud. He knew he shouldn't be friends with a Malfoy, but this Malfoy was different than the usual stoic and cruel Malfoy at school. He was fun loving and lively. He liked kittens for God's sakes. He didn't seem to be the Junior Death Eater Harry had always assumed him to be, though he hadn't seen the boy in hundreds of years, or, well two.  
  
"Okay, sure. I'll go with you. Who's playing, where, and how will we meet up?" asked Harry after a moment of contemplation. He might be able to turn Draco from the Dark to the Light. That is, if he wasn't already on the side of the Light. He seemed to be less involved with the Dark than he did the last time Harry had seen him. After all, it was in the job description. And besides, Draco was a lot of fun. He wasn't a know it all like Hermione. He loved her like a sister, but she could get a tad overbearing at times. Draco wasn't as thick or prone to jealousy like Ron was either. He made clever, witty, and sarcastic remarks, which Harry found terribly amusing.  
  
Draco grinned widely.  
  
"Well, it's the Falmouth Falcons against the Chudley Cannons. I personally like the Chudley Cannons much better, although they do tend to have been on a losing streak for the past fifteen years," Draco muttered sarcastically.  
  
"It's just the color orange that I like, really. It's at the stadium just outside of London, and you can floo to Malfoy Mansion, and then we can take a portkey," said Draco. Harry just stared, lack jawed at Draco.  
  
Draco raised an elegant eyebrow curiously. "You know Christopher, you might catch flies if you stand there long enough. Although I've found they're more partial to honey than saliva."  
  
Harry continued to gape at the blond Slytherin. Did say that. . .  
  
"You LIKE the Chudley Cannons???" Harry finally asked incredulously. Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley would have something like this in common? Or for that matter, anything in common. The world as he knew it was coming to an end. Malfoy was nice. He liked kittens. Malfoy just invited him to a Quidditch match. Malfoy had something in common with Ron. Malfoy wasn't like his father's clone anymore. Where the hell was Harry? An alternate dimension? Draco put on a mock hurt expression when Harry had asked that question.  
  
"Well, they're better than the Blubber Blathorns. And WHAT pray tell do you consider wrong with the color orange? I find it to be a rather nice color if I do say so myself" smirked Draco. Harry snickered and put his hands up in mock surrender.  
  
"Nothing nothing. I just have a hard time believing that you were a Chudley Cannons fan. I have a friend whose obsessed with them actually. Are you sure your father won't mind?" Harry asked, suddenly worried. He was somewhat nervous about being around the elder Malfoy. He knew he could take care of himself if the need arises, but he was still uneasy about the prospect of spending the afternoon with Voldemort's head honcho.  
  
Draco looked thoughtful, and then he seemed to get a suspicious glint in his eye. He looked warily around the crowded streets for eavesdroppers before he replied. He grabbed Harry's arm and led him to an alley behind Flourish and Blotts.  
  
"Christopher, I need to ask you a very important question. And be quiet with your answer; I don't want anyone to overhear. Do you support the Dark Lord?" This was it and Harry new it. He wouldn't very well say that he supported that vile creature if his life depended on it, but this was a way to find out if Draco supported him or not.  
  
"No, I do not support that evil bastard with a superiority complex. He murdered my family and I truly hate him with every fiber of my being," said Harry determinedly. Draco looked relieved.  
  
"You mustn't tell anyone this. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. I mean, I just met you, but I feel as if I have always known you. My father is probably the biggest supporter of the Dark Lord. I have seen what the Death Eaters do, but I have no desire or intention to join their ranks. I hope you know that I have just put my life into your hands," stated Draco. He looked calmly at Harry, trying to judge Harry's emotions. All that he saw was compassion and understanding, not loathing or an underlying deceit as he had half way expected.  
  
Harry smiled widely, relieved that Draco was not a Dark follower. "You have my promise that I won't utter a word to a single soul. I'm glad you're on our side. I have heard of your families reputation, and I was afraid you might have followed in your father's footsteps."  
  
Draco looked quite relieved as well. "Thank God for small blessings. I was afraid there for a moment that I was inviting a bloody Death Eater to a Quidditch match." Harry smirked amusedly at Draco. He rarely, if ever saw past the cool mask that Draco always wore when they had been in school. It was refreshing to see emotions other than cruelty, anger, or hate in the Malfoy heir.  
  
"You know Draco, we're going to have to come up with a cover story. I'm not exactly a pure blood you know, and I doubt your father has ever heard of my family," pointed out Harry.  
  
"Well, just tell him you come from a very long line of pureblooded wizards in France. Your last name is French, and well, so is your first name. I personally don't care about the whole 'pureblood' issue anymore, so how about we tell him that your family keeps to themselves and is neutral in the war. You're transferring to Hogwarts from Beaux Batons, which I assume you are, and we met in Madame Malkins. How about that?" asked Draco.  
  
Harry grinned and nodded. "Yes, it sounds believable enough. So, what's your floo address?"  
  
They went to Florence's Ice Cream Parlor(5), where Harry got toffee flavored this time, and then they visited Quality Quidditch Supplies. Draco bought a new pair of Seeker's gloves, and Harry bought a few books. He didn't have any books on Quidditch at his cottage. It really was a shame, but that was resolved now. They spent the rest of the afternoon walking dazedly through the streets with no set destination, just talking with one another and window shopping. By the time dusk had fallen, Draco had to go back to his home.  
  
"It's been fun Christopher, but I've got to get back to dear old daddy. Floo over about noon or so next Friday," said Draco as he through the floo powder into the fireplace at the Leaky Caldroun. They had ended up there for a few butterbeers.  
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, Draco. Bye," said Harry. With a sharp nod, Draco vanished into the emerald green flames. Harry sighed. It had been one hell of a day. Not only had he made friends with Malfoy of all people, but he actually /enjoyed/ his company! And to top it all off, he was invited to a Quidditch match by the guy.  
  
Harry's life was getting more complicated by the second, and tomorrow it was going to be even more so. He was going to make a little trip to the forests of Albania. It was time to gather the Light's enforcements, and there was a certain vampire Harry hadn't seen in quite some time.  
  
~*~  
  
HA HA!!!! I have finished chapter four. Whew! *wipes sweat from forehead* that took a loooong time. I'm sorry if my updates are a little sporadic. I'm typing this all on my laptop, which doesn't have Microsoft Word, and I have to use 'workpad' and I can't seem to upload chapters from my laptop because of lack of said computer program. I have to find a new power cord for my desktop, and until then it's saving this to a floppy and uploading it at my friends house. Oh well. I had this chapter finished with chapter three, so I decided to give you all two chapters within 24 hours of each other.  
  
Thank you for letting me update on your computer Leah!!! You're a life savor!!!  
  
1 and 2- Not exactly sure how to spell these, so just pay them no mind.  
  
3- I have no idea how to spell this.  
  
4- Ok, Christopher, pronounced Chri-Stoff, was the first name of my nineth grade french teacher, who had moved here from France. Le is the masculine form of 'the' in French. I wasn't to good in French, so I switched to Latin the next year. Magnae is the plural form of 'great' or 'big' in Latin. The singular form, 'Magna', just didn't seem to fit. So his name is basically translated to Christopher the Great.  
  
5- Yes, I know. I'm still spelling it wrong.  
  
PLEASE REVIEW! MY EGO IS LIKE A DOG, OR CAT IN SOME CASES. IT HAS TO BE PETTED, STROKED, AND FED! I THEN BECOMES MORE MOTIVATED TO GET THESE CHAPTERS OUT FASTER!  
  
REVIEW!!!!!!!!!!!!!! please? 


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